


Endless Wonder-A Warehouse 13 Story

by DragonBlue



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 05:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBlue/pseuds/DragonBlue
Summary: A retired rifle marksman is invited to join the ranks of a very special task force...housed in the middle of nowhere!





	Endless Wonder-A Warehouse 13 Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of this story. I might make a series I,m not sure. Hope you all enjoy it.

Prologue: An invitation to endless wonder.

Retired FBI agent and rifle marksmen John Striker sighed wearily as he mounted the short flight of steps leading to his blue front door. He had gone out early to have a drink, thinking that it might help him forget what a failure he had become. He had once been a star marksman on the fast track to a good career. Now, due to a concussion from an enemy bullet the sight in his left eye was nearly gone. He lived by himself in the single floor house. He had never married; or rather he had married his work. With that gone now he wasn’t sure what to do. He spent his days wondering what would happen and wandering around the house in a fog of indecision about what to do. He stretched out a hand and turned the large brass knob. John pushed his shoulder against the door and it swung inward with a slight creaking sound. He stepped into the dark front hall and realized something was amiss. He saw the kitchen light at the end of the hall was on, casting a harsh white glow outward and along the hall floor for some distance. John slowly moved down the hallway, picking up a baseball bat. Slowly he approached the open door and presently he stood in the doorway. There was a stranger standing by the counter one hand resting solidly on the countertop. John didn’t care who she was. She was an intruder in his house. He yelled and rushed her swinging the bat. The woman didn’t appear to move, yet suddenly John felt his wrist clamped in a vise-like grip and he was shoved backward. He stumbled and collapsed into an empty chair. The woman stood over him, studying him with such an intense stare he knew at once that this stranger should not be crossed.  
“Mr. Striker, I’m here to speak with you regarding a very important matter. I am going to need your help”.

“Who are you”?

“My name is Claudia Donovan”

Suddenly she laughed a light and carefree laugh that John had not expected at all.

“And you can stop looking at me as if I might kill you; I could if I had really wanted to trust me. That is not why I’m here.

“Then why are you here”?

“Only to extend to you an invitation”

“What sort of an invitation mandates breaking into my home at night? 

A slight smile played at the corners of Claudia’s mouth as she answered.

“an invitation to endless wonder”.

...

 

Chapter 1: The middle of nowhere.

John Striker was still, the hot South Dakota sun beating down on him as he stared up at the huge rectangular structure before him. He was officially in the middle of nowhere. It was really a patch of sun-baked ground in the South Dakota desert and yet it felt like it could be the end of the world. There was nothing around him for miles and miles. There was nothing at all except for a Warehouse. John looked around warily. He couldn’t see anyone else around at all, at least as much as he could see with his bad eye. A soft rustle in the sand and the crunch of rocks underfoot made John spin around suddenly. With the sun beating down and glaring of the dusty ground, he couldn’t see much of anything at first. Slowly a silhouette was outlined by the bright light and John saw a man walking towards him. John could not tell from which direction the man had come but there was a sense of purpose in his stride as he moved toward him.

“Mr. Striker, we’ve been expecting you.”

“Who are you? What is this place”? John asked.

The stranger stopped and stamped the loose mud from his brown boots. Wiping his hands down the front of his earth-colored shirt and blue jeans he breathed out a long puff of air and pushed the brim of a brown fedora back from his head. His button-down shirt hugged his stomach somewhat, not adequately disguising his slight… or more than slight pudginess. Despite that, he appeared fit and ready to move if the need arose

“You will know soon enough Mr. Striker” The man said, absently running a thumb over his cheek and his jaw which were covered in coarse black whiskers.

“I work with Ms. Donovan, My name is Arthur Nielsen. You can call me Artie. Now…what say you and I go inside?

John could see that for the moment he would have to simply play along and see what happened next. He turned and followed Artie towards the large door of the warehouse which opened from the inside to receive them. They proceeded through the door and down a long circular hallway. Artie opened a door at the end and entered an office…of sorts. John’s mouth fell open as he took in the state of disorder and general chaos the room was in. He decided that the best thing that he could liken it to was that this office, if it could be called such a thing had recently been hit by a hurricane with possibly a small earthquake following swift on its heels. John could barely see the rug which spread over the floor. Huge stacks of old books were everywhere, freestanding or leaning against the large desk that was covered in papers, stacked on chairs that were haphazardly placed all around the room and stuffed to overflowing on the three bookshelves spaced around the room. The main space on the desk was taken by a large computer unlike any that John had ever seen. It had three different monitors and the keyboard seemed to be off as well. They keys looked to be very old-fashioned and not square in shape but round. Despite the room’s untidy appearance, Artie led John across the room without once looking where he stepped and opened the opposite door. This led out onto a railed balcony or observation deck.  
John had no idea what he had expected but it had never been what he now saw before him. Looking out from the deck, as far as his good eye could see stretched row after row of what appeared to be long shelves covered in different objects. He couldn’t even see where the warehouse ended.  
Artie came up and stood beside him.  
He gestured towards the huge expanse before them with a sweep of his arm

“Mr. Striker, welcome to Warehouse 13”

John could only stare about in amazement.

“What exactly is this place? Why do you need me here”?

Artie turned and looked at him, the lights catching and glinting on his small round glasses.

“This place, officially…k thirty nine triple z on the North American grid. I usually like to think of it as America’s Attic.

John ran a hand through his hair and breathed in deeply before letting out the breath in a great sigh.

“What do you do here? What is this all for?

Artie placed both hands on the deck rail and gazed out over the sea of shelves.

“That will be explained very soon Mr. Striker. Actually they should be on their way…ahh here they come now.

John looked downward and caught sight of Claudia Donovan making her way towards the staircase which led up to the deck. In her wake she trailed three other people. All three of them seemed young just as John was. There were two men and a woman in the group, all of them laughing and calling out in raised voices as they all mounted the stairs. Presently all four of them stood in a line and John and Artie turned to face them. Even though he was no longer a marksman, John’s habit of observing everything around him had not deserted him. He saw that the older of the two men was about middle height and stocky, with the build of a football player. He had short black hair that stuck out in odd places and John could sense an air of fun and freedom in him. There were also deep laugh lines around his eyes. The younger man who stood on his left side was a bit harder to read. His hair was cropped short close to his head in a military style. His eyes were a deep blue and his build was taller and more slim then the first man. It seemed to John that he had fun and seriousness in equal measure. The woman was quite easy to interpret. She stood on the first man’s right side. She had a tall frame and brown hair which fell and curled about her face, framing it . All of them were dressed for comfort, in t-shirts and jeans. At the end of the line stood Claudia, who stepped up and pointed each one of the three out as she named them. She began at the right hand side of the lineup.

“Mr. Striker, meet agents Myka Berring, Pete Latimer and Steve Jinks".


End file.
